


wish that i could take you to the stars

by rosedvst



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Based on a Tumblr Post, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, hanahaki disease but instead of throwing up flowers they appear on your skin like tattoos, puerto rican keith, they're both disasters scoob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-14 03:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16032461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosedvst/pseuds/rosedvst
Summary: “The love of your life?” Keith whispers eventually. His eyes are round with shock.Yeah, Lance thinks detachedly. You’re the love of my life. You’re it for me. Everything I see and do is painted in red because of you.❀.*｡･ﾟOr, Lance's body is covered in red roses and he pretends not to know what they mean, until he can't keep pretending anymore.





	wish that i could take you to the stars

**Author's Note:**

> yeah im back on my kl*ncer bullshit again KEEP SCROLLING  
> -this whole fic is heavily inspired by [this post right here](https://etherja.tumblr.com/post/177885680913/instead-of-hanahaki-disease-your-skin-develops)  
> by @bitchinki  
> -im gonna keep it real w u chief i have no idea when this is supposed to take place so just insert it anywhere in canon that u feel it may fit into thanks  
> -also i wrote this all in the span of one day with no beta so uh. forgive me if there are any mistakes  
> -title is inspired by one direction's "through the dark". yes i am that bitch.  
> thanks for reading!!!

Lance’s arms are covered in roses.

They’re thin lines, tattoos that loop and curve around the canvas of his arms to create the shapes of petals. They meld into one another seamlessly and form the pictures of whole flowers, inked in crimson and scarlet and all other shades of red.

Lance thinks they’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He hates them.

He hates them because he knows when the infatuation was planted deep into his heart, at the Garrison all those years ago. Knows when it sprouted in the form of roses on his arms. He knows how they spread and bloomed over the course of their time together, knows how they glow whenever he sees him or touches him or makes him laugh. He's familiar with the suffocating feeling of growing the flowers, of having them spread, of being in love. It's a special kind of suffering, especially since he knows that it will never amount to anything.

Lance hates his flowers because he knows who they grow for. They keep growing despite his best wishes.

 

❀.*｡･ﾟ

 

(Lance falls in and out of love so much that his arms are covered in tiny starbursts of faded flowers. The flowers are of all different kinds, sizes, and shapes. They almost resemble scars, in a way; they are a bit discolored and mismatching the actual shade of Lance’s skin, but he doesn’t mind. The red roses now cover up the majority of the faded flowers anyway.)

 

❀.*｡･ﾟ

 

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Allura says one day in the peaceful quiet of the castleship’s lounge. “What are those peculiar markings on your arms?”

Lance looks up from where he had been sitting on the couch opposite of her, then slowly glances at everyone else. His hands twitch. He doesn’t say so, but he’d really prefer not to have to answer Allura’s question. He doesn’t feel like talking about his flowers today; not when his roses are spreading so unrelentingly over the length of his arms, and new buds are beginning to form, almost as if to mock him.

Hunk, who sits on the floor and fiddles with something that looks suspiciously like a mini shower, looks up and makes eye contact with Lance in the knowing sort of way that he always does. Lance tries not to sigh. Showing Hunk his flowers had been both a blessing and a curse; a blessing because Hunk had comforted him and knew exactly what to say to make Lance feel better about his stupid crush, and a curse because Hunk was about as subtle as a sledgehammer or a brick through a window on his best days. Lance shakes his head at Hunk before averting his eyes and picking at the sleeve of his jacket.

Next to Lance, Shiro naps peacefully, lying on his back with his hands folded over his chest, as if he were in prayer. He may let out a soft snore once or twice, and although Lance finds it incredibly amusing, he would never say so. Pidge, sitting cross legged next to the princess with her tablet in hand, remains entranced by her screen and utterly unbothered by the question.

Keith is nowhere to be found, most likely on the training deck fighting the bot for the millionth time, or doing whatever else it is he does, like sitting in his room with his arms crossed over his chest and brooding. He’s probably brooding. Definitely brooding.

Pidge looks up during the noticeable silence following Allura’s words and raises a brow at Lance’s uncharacteristic quiet before deciding to answer the question herself.

“To put it simply, humans develop special markings on their bodies when they fall in love. They usually just appear on the arms, and they typically look like flowers. The type of flower represent the person you fall in love with,” Pidge says, in the same clinical tone of voice she uses when talking about things like modulating or color-coding, before going back to typing something furiously on her tablet.  “I don’t have any yet.”

Hunk nods in agreement, playing with the screwdriver in his hand before chiming in. “A lot of people keep theirs hidden because they don’t want anyone to know about their flowers or who their flowers grow for. They wear long sleeves, or gloves if they need to. Anything to cover them up.” Hunk, whose sleeves are pushed up to the elbow, doesn’t try to hide the faded orange flowers on the underside of his forearm. He shows it to Allura. “I don’t mind people looking at mine. This was from when I had a huge crush on a girl in my Intro to Engineering course at the Garrison.”

“That is fascinating,” Allura breathes, clearly in awe as she stares at Hunk’s arm. “Do you have any more?”

Hunk nods and shows her his other arm, where a purple peony blooms in faded colors at the base of his wrist. “This one is for the boy who lived next door to me when I was a kid. I haven’t talked to him in years,” He lets out a soft chuckle. “This was actually my first flower. Isn’t that crazy?”

Allura is transfixed. She looks up, scanning each of the humans in the room. Pidge had already told Allura that she had no markings, and Hunk had shown her his. Shiro was still asleep, or at least pretending to be to avoid having this conversation, and his chest rises and falls with the steady rhythm of his breaths. So her eyes land and lock onto Lance. He tries not to squirm in his seat.

“Lance, do you have any markings?” She asks, and he really doesn’t feel like showing anyone his flowers, because right now they’re just all red roses, and everyone will immediately know who they grow for, but what is he supposed to do? He can’t lie to her and tell her that he has none, and he sees no other viable escape from the question. Besides, he trusts the princess, and Hunk, and Pidge too, even though sometimes she can be a little shit.

So he hums an affirmation, sheds his jacket, and rolls up the sleeves of his baseball tee, baring his arms to everyone in the room. Allura gasps, audible in the sudden quiet.

Dozens of flowers of all different colors litter his arms: poppies and sunflowers and violets, all varying in size and quantity and fading into the brown of his skin. Some are mere outlines. Some are more saturated than others. Some are big, and some are small, but they are all clustered together in clearly defined groups, petals overlapping and colors mixing into a beautiful floral rainbow on the canvas of Lance’s freckled skin. Most prominently, though, the red roses bloom all over. They are the biggest and most colorful, and they immediately call attention to anyone who looks at Lance’s arm. He should be ashamed of them, of how eagerly and quickly they grow. But he can’t bring himself to feel shame.

“You have so many!” Allura exclaims in awe, poking at a posy on this elbow. Lance laughs sheepishly, grateful that she hadn’t pointed out the painfully obvious red flowers yet.

“Yeah, I guess I’m more prone to falling in love than most people,” He says. “I don’t really remember who each flower grew for.” Which is a total lie. Lance remembers the moment every flower on his arms appeared on his skin, remembers the exact minute that he realized he had fallen in love again. It has just always been easier to pretend that he didn’t.

Shiro, who had been slowly waking up from his spot next to Lance at all of the noise, sits up and looks over, sleep in his eyes. So maybe he wasn’t pretending to be asleep. “Looking at your soulmarks?” He asks, voice rough and soft at the same time. Lance nods.

Shiro’s eyes lock onto Lance’s roses, and his eyes widen the tiniest fraction. For a brief moment, Lance thinks he is going to say something--going to point out the biggest flowers and ask Lance the question that he has been dreading. But Shiro doesn’t. He remains silent.

Then Shiro looks down at his own arms, raises the prosthetic one slowly so that it glints in the blue Altean lighting of the lounge. “Before I left for Kerberos, my flowers were all on this arm,” He says, something in his voice, and wow, it hadn’t even occurred to Lance that Shiro could have soulmarks of his own, that Shiro was susceptible to the terrible, painful condition of falling in love.

“Then, I lost my arm,” Shiro continues. “And I felt like I had lost the love too. But,” He pauses, rolling up his sleeve to show the skin of his left arm, still flesh and blood. Up and down the length of his forearm, white orchids grow on his skin, still in bloom and vibrant. “They reappeared on this arm.” He lets out a tiny chuckle. It sounds pained. “I guess I’m still head over heels for him.”

Lance gapes. He wants to ask who Shiro loves; wants to ask who makes him smile and laugh and cry, who makes him happy, even after all of this time passing by without any way for him to contact his soulmate.

But before he can, Keith chooses this moment to walk into the lounge, striding in with his stupid cropped jacket and gloves and dumb go-go boots on as usual. If Lance has to avert his eyes and subtly pull his sleeves back down to hide the red roses, then so be it. He thinks Shiro might notice, but Lance ignores the burn of his observant eyes and slips his jacket back on.

Keith flops down onto the couch next to Lance and folds his arms over his chest. “What’s going on?” He asks, blunt and gruff in his own typical Keith way. Lance’s heart definitely does not flutter.

Allura smiles. “We’re discussing human culture! The markings on everyone’s arms are so intriguing, especially Lance’s.”

Lance can feel Keith stiffen beside him, see the way his hands clench, sense his body posture closing off even more than usual. He seems to be preparing himself for the question they all know Allura is going to ask.

She says, “Do you have any flowers, Keith?”

Keith doesn’t answer. He opens his mouth and closes it. His entire body is tense. It’s almost painful to watch how badly he does not want to answer her question. He looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel, honestly.

Lance decides to cut in to save him. “Uh, some people aren’t exactly comfortable with showing other people their flowers, Princess.”

Allura flushes and stammers. “Oh, my apologies, Keith! I wasn’t aware that you would be uncomfortable. Earth culture may be fascinating, but it is incredibly odd. Alteans proudly brandish our own markings when it is deemed to be appropriate!”

As if on cue, Coran walks in at the precise moment that Allura mentions their Altean markings, and he launches into a full blown explanation of the Altean version of soulmarks and the various cultural traditions that come with them and the in-depth courting rituals that must take place when an Altean finds their soulmate, and his explanation is so intricate and detailed that Lance finds himself getting lost in the cadence of his accented voice.

Keith relaxes in his spot next to Lance, but he doesn’t meet Lance’s wandering eyes. He doesn’t partake in the following conversation, either, even when Allura tells all of them about her own Altean markings, and how they criss-cross her entire body in pink waves, and how they are supposed to match her soulmates’ markings and glow when she meets them.

And when Keith gets up and quietly slips out of the room when the conversation somehow devolves into another Hunk vs. Pidge tech debate, Lance’s eyes follow him helplessly.

His red roses burn.

 

❀.*｡･ﾟ

 

(Lance looks at his reflection and sighs.

The roses have spread. They crawl up Lance’s bicep and curve around his shoulder blade; he even feels one burning a spot into the side of his ribcage, and when he angles his body so that he can look at in it the mirror, it almost seems to be taunting him as it begins to bloom a deep, dark red.

The love isn’t stopping, isn’t pausing in it’s growth. The roses get bigger at a steady rate each and every day.

Today, Keith had laughed at one of his stupid jokes. It was some dumb pun about a planet that they had come across earlier today that had had three different rings of space dust and debris surrounding it. Lance had taken one look at it and had said something about putting a ring on it. Pidge and Shiro had looked like they were in physical pain as the words left Lance's mouth. Hunk had shaken his head. Allura and Coran had just looked vaguely confused. But much to the surprise of Lance as well as everyone else, Keith had laughed out loud, bright and genuine. He had even leaned into Lance’s space a little and placed a hand on Lance’s chest.

His heart still races just thinking about it, but Lance feels helpless. He doesn’t know what to do as he stares at the rapidly multiplying red roses.

So he ignores them. He puts on his baseball shirt, and then his jacket for an extra layer of protection. And he continues doing what he’s always done, in the hopes that maybe his roses will disappear and he can go back to seeing Keith as just a friend, just like how Keith sees him.)

 

❀.*｡･ﾟ

 

(It doesn't work.)

 

❀.*｡･ﾟ

 

The flowers flow in the gentle spring breeze, and Lance breathes the scent of them in as deeply as he can.

The planet that the paladins have stopped on for the evening, Aumia, is covered in them--bunches of alien flowers not dissimilar in appearance to Earth’s lilacs, with velvety purple petals and long green stems and a certain softness about them. They hang from the balconies of the buildings in the town and grow up the sides of walls like vines. Smaller sprouts spring up in between the stones of the old cobblestoned streets. Lance makes sure not to step on a single one as the team is escorted by Aumian officials to their castle, which sits on the top of a grassy hill just beyond the town. This planet looks like it could have been taken right out of the storybooks Lance’s Mama used to read to him before bed every night, except there are no princes who slay dragons and no princesses that need saving. Well, they do have one princess, but she can save herself without the help of any prince, to be honest.

As they continue their walk to the castle, Lance notices that there is a certain haze surrounding this planet. The Aumians are a tall, willowy people with what would have been humanoid-esque figures had it not been for their extra set of arms and the narrow antennae that poke out from their hairlines. Their skin colors range from earthy browns to dark greens, and their hair is coily in texture. They are serene and gracious and forthcoming with their emotions. Their laughs are deep as they sound across the town’s square.

Right now, Aumians are in the midst of celebrating the changing of the seasons, as Coran had explained on their ride down to the planet (although apparently the planet is in a perpetual state of springtime anyway, so there aren’t many distinctions to be made between the different seasons). Around this time of the deca-phoeb, they host a festival celebrating the renewal of the flora, and the lilac-looking flowers are apparently customary for the decoration and celebration of the festival.

The bunches of flowers are tucked into every article of each Aumian citizen’s clothing. They are woven together and hung around necks and wrists, and placed on the crowns of their heads. They are passed around by happy townspeople who twirl around to folksy music in their long layered skirts and bare feet.

Lance thinks that if he had to choose one word to describe this race of beautiful, vibrant people, it would be _rich_. Rich in their colors and rich in their sounds and rich in their nature. Lance has never seen so many happy, smiling faces since he left earth. Maybe even before then. He immediately wants to join in on their celebration; to shed his stiff jacket that is a part of his diplomatic ensemble and to adorn one of the lilac flower crowns and to dance with the Aumians in their town square. He wants to become as carefree and glowing as them.

Allura nudges him and whispers, conspiratorially, “We can join the festival after the celebratory feast in the castle.” Lance beams at her. Maybe spending the evening here won’t be as boring as he had initially thought.

 

❀.*｡･ﾟ

 

When Allura had first received the transmission from the Aumians inviting the paladins of Voltron to their planet, she had been ecstatic. The Aumian officials intended not only to discuss their allegiance to the Voltron Coalition, but also to invite the paladins to partake in the annual festival with the Aumian people.

Allura had turned to the paladins excitedly and described just what the planet was like, and what to expect. Lance thinks that even with the princesses magnificent vocabulary, her embellished words couldn’t do this planet justice. The way that everything glows and pulses and thrums is indescribable. The way the people look, so happy and content, is beyond words. The way that the sky bleeds into the ocean of the beachside town is remarkable.

The Aumian castle looks like something straight out of a movie--it’s all columns crawling with lilac vines and windows that open to balconies which overlook foamy pink oceans. Everything is brushed with gold and dipped in silver. It’s incredibly beautiful and one of the most romantic places Lance has ever seen.

He can’t help but feel the burn of his roses on his skin.

And, okay, Lance hasn’t been trying to make a point of staring at Keith, but--but he’s wearing his formal diplomatic clothes, and the burgundy of his jacket suits him so well, and his bangs are braided and pulled back away from his face (at Allura and Coran’s insistence, and to Shiro and Pidge’s amusement), and… He looks good. Lance can't stop stealing glances at him during the dinner and the following discussion between the leaders of Aumia and Shiro, Allura, and Coran concerning the Coalition. Keith catches his eye a couple of times and offers him a small smile. 

After everything is wrapped up, the paladins are granted a bit of time to join the festival in the town and to celebrate along with the Aumian people. Immediately, Lance is off, dragging Hunk and Allura out of the castle with him on a mission to join the celebrating townspeople in the square. Shiro and Coran stay behind to socialize with the officials, and Keith and Pidge trail behind Lance and the others at a steady pace. The sky is fading into a pretty crimson now, and one out of the three suns of the planet has already set.

They tumble into the town and are immediately swept up into the celebration, Aumians of all different kinds walking up to them with their smiling faces and loading them with lilac leis. Lance smiles at each and every one of them and dives headfirst into the festival, Hunk and Allura not far behind. The festival is more of a gathering than anything, in which the Aumians meet with one another with accompanying music and food and lilacs, but Lance loves it. They talk with the townspeople about how pretty their planet is, and describe their various missions saving the world, and explain how they plan to save the universe with Voltron and the Coalition’s help. The Aumians are nothing but gracious and graceful.

There is a band by the fountain in the middle of the square, and each member plays a different instrument that creates sounds Lance has never heard before; thrums and beeps and whistles. Somehow they manage to put together beautifully composed songs, ranging anywhere from bluegrass sounding tunes to upbeat dance numbers.

After a while of talking to various Aumians and learning their names only to forget them shortly after, Lance is eventually dragged into the center of the crowded town square for a dance by an older Aumian. The elder looks at him with the deep crinkles in their face and their soul in their smile. Lance melts and complies. He sheds his formal jacket and tosses it at Hunk, who cheers him on from the sidelines. His sleeves are rolled up and his forearms are bared to the entire planet but he doesn’t care; he can’t bring himself to care about his faded flowers and bright roses right in this moment, because he is about to dance, and it has been a while since the last time he has, and he has missed it achingly.

The older Aumian leads him through a complicated and elaborate dance and Lance tries his best to follow along, putting his whole body into the movements as he steps, and twirls, and slides with the rhythm of the fast-paced music, all while holding on to his partner’s creased hands. For an elder, his dance partner really knows how to move.

Then he is tossed to another Aumian, this one towering over him and with a big smile. Their lavender skirts swish as they lead Lance through the dance, and Lance feels a laugh bubbling out of him as he is literally swept off of his feet and into the dance.

Lance gets tossed to Hunk next, who spins him around and picks him up as if he weighs nothing, and then to Allura, who proceeds to do the same with her enhanced Altean strength, and Lance can’t stop laughing as he clutches onto both of their shoulders respectively. The Aumians all clap as Allura places Lance down. He shakes his head, and then grabs her hands and he leads her in a salsa. Allura is not used to these types of dances, as the Alteans typically danced to slower ballroom-type music, but as she trips over her feet and moves clumsily to the tune of the song, she laughs out loud and Lance can’t help but laugh along with her.

Soon another Aumian, this one looking to be Lance’s own age but twice as muscular, is swooping in and stealing a giggly Allura away, and Lance is left partnerless for the first time all evening, his hands empty and the laughs fading from his mouth.

Until Keith steps in and takes his hand, and says, “Wanna dance?” In that soft deep voice of his, and, once Lance gets past his surprise, he realizes that he doesn’t know if he would ever be able to say no. So he nods and lets Keith pull him closer. 

Keith has a lilac flower behind his ear, and a few petals tucked into his braids. He looks amused as he guides Lance through some semblance of his own salsa to the tune of the music. Lance can’t conceal his surprise.

“Where did you learn how to salsa?” He asks as Keith maneuvers Lance with his hands, pulling him in and pushing him away, twisting their hips in time with the beat.

Keith smiles, and Lance barely catches it in between their movements. He slows down for the sake of their conversation. “My dad was half Japanese, half Puerto Rican. I learned the basics from the old family barbecues. My abuelita taught me everything I know, before she passed.”

All Lance can do is stare dumbly at Keith's face, unable to form any words before Keith is picking up the pace and wow, okay, he definitely knows more than just the basics, the liar. This whole thing is ridiculous--the fact that Keith has been a Latino this whole time and withheld that information from Lance (his brain is screaming _what the fuck_ right now), and that he knows how to salsa and move his hips like _that_ , and the fact that he’s holding onto Lance’s hand, then his waist, then his ribcage--and Lance can barely process what is happening.

The style of salsa Lance learned at home is different than the one Keith is using, and there are a few times when they stumble and trip and fall into one another, but Lance doesn’t mind. It gives him an excuse to get closer to Keith.

The music starts to simmer down into something slower, and Lance realizes that he has no idea how long him and Keith have been dancing. He catches Allura’s eyes over Keith’s shoulder, and she smiles real big and shows him a thumbs up, a gesture she must have learned from Hunk. Lance smiles back.

With the changing of the music, Lance suddenly switches up his dance with Keith, and begins to lead him in a Bolero dance. It’s been a while, but Lance feels the muscle memory kicking in from all of the times Veronica had swept him into a playful Bolero when they were much younger, only kids. He tries to do what he did then, and leads Keith in a box step with forward turns and crossovers and swivels, every movement slow and soft.

Keith says, lowly, “I’ve never done this dance before.”

“Just follow my lead,” Lance assures him. “Step with me.”

Lance improvises as he goes along, adding in twirls and flourishes as the dance progresses. He belatedly realizes that the majority of the other dancers have stopped, and it’s just them on the makeshift dance floor right now, in the center of a large circle of Aumians in their town square, but he doesn’t dwell on it. He just continues to pull Keith in, closer every time, and sway their bodies together while stepping to the beat. One of Keith’s hands is clasped tightly in Lance’s, and the other remains on Lance’s shoulder, until he is pushed away or twirled. It always finds its way back to his shoulder again.

Part of Lance believes that this is a dream. He can’t possibly be dancing with Keith like this. Keith, who is always so closed off and distant and broody. Keith, who has never let anyone get so close to him before in this way. Keith, who is looking up at him with his bangs pulled back, so that nothing is obscuring his face. His eyes are the prettiest shade of violet Lance has ever seen, the same shade as the lilac flower tucked behind his ear.

The song comes to an end, and Lance and Keith’s dance draws to a close. The Aumians cheer and disperse around the square, no longer paying attention to the pair. Lance and Keith are suddenly surrounded, lost in the crowd of celebrating people, but it feels like it is still just the two of them in their own little bubble. Lance has Keith pulled in close, one hand at his waist and the other still clutching his palm. Keith is smiling at him. It looks like he might be leaning in.

And then something catches his gaze. He pauses, looks down at Lance’s arm, and freezes.

When Lance follows his gaze and looks at his own arm, it comes with the horrifying realization that the red roses bared on his arm are glowing. They pulse in their scarlet shades and cast out a strong red light. Lance stares, fear clutching at his throat. The trance between them is broken. 

Lance disentangles his fingers from Keith’s hand, pulling away messily. He stumbles back and pushes his sleeves down hastily to cover the dumb glowing roses that grow for Keith before pushing through the crowd of Aumians and running away from the boy who owns his soul. He thinks he hears his name being called, but he can’t hear it over the rushing of his blood and the pounding of his heart.

He keeps running. He doesn’t stop because he doesn't know what will happen if he does, and the thought scares him.

 

❀.*｡･ﾟ

 

Lance finds himself back in the castle, on one of the balconies that overlooks the ocean. He knows he’s being childish and immature, hiding out on this balcony to avoid his problems, but he can't bring himself to care. The view from here is beautiful and it calms his racing heart.

The last of the planet’s three suns is sinking now, and the sky is painted a light dusty purple, which complements the pink of the calm seas. The ambiance of the ocean is a comfort to Lance; if he closes his eyes, and listens real hard, and breathes real deeply, he can almost pretend like he is back in Cuba, in Varadero, and that when he opens his eyes again he’ll be met with the sight of his family, and crystalline shallow waters, and warm beige sands. The image burns itself into Lance’s mind and pierces deep into his heart. Being here hurts him just as much as it heals him.

And yet Lance remains there for what feels like hours, watching the setting sun and appreciating the way that the sky transforms into a darker shade of purple during this untouchable varga of dusk. The stars are beginning to appear. Lance looks for familiar constellations in new skies, ones that he knows he won’t find but seeks out anyway. It comforts him.

“Lance?” Someone is asking, and Lance turns around, and is met with the sight of Shiro, standing just inside, full diplomatic outfit on, still as pristine and put-together as usual. Lance suddenly feels incredibly disheveled and gross. He’s probably still sweaty from the dance, and his outfit is all messily untucked, and he knows his hair is unkempt.

“Hey,” Lance says.

“Mind if I join you?” Shiro asks.

Lance scoffs. “‘Course not,” He replies, even though he’d really rather be alone right now.

Shiro steps out onto the balcony and rests his forearms against the railing. He looks out into the pink seas, eyes dark. He looks relaxed and vulnerable in this moment. His silver tuft of hair glints beautifully in the dying light of the planet’s suns.

“Keith is looking for you,” Shiro offers quietly.

Lance groans. “Yeah. I figured.”

“He was really upset that you left. It’s not my place to tell you anything that he told me, but I think you should talk to him.”

Lance looks at Shiro, looks at his profile and the way the light catches on his marble-cut features.

“Shiro, you’ve been in love before, right?” He asks, unprompted.

Shiro looks at him as if trying to decipher Lance’s meaning. “Yeah, I have,” He answers after a few moments.

“Then you know I can’t do that.” Lance says resolutely. Shiro frowns.

“I don’t see why not, Lance.”

Lance looks away. “He’s half Galra, and a pilot of both the Red Lion and the Black Lion, and a member of the Blade of Marmora, and he’s just so much more than I am, Shiro. He belongs in the stars, leading people and saving planets. I belong on Earth, with my family and the people I love. I’ve never needed more than that. He does. He needs so much more. He deserves so much more. He deserves better than me,” Lance says in one steady breath. “And I can’t hold him back. So I can’t tell him how I feel.”

Shiro stays silent for a few ticks after that. He seems to be piecing together his thoughts.

“Lance,” He starts, and he’s not using his dad voice like he usually does when he tries to get something into the younger paladins’ thick skulls. His voice is soft and real and full of emotion--it's the voice of a friend, the voice of a brother. “You’ve got it all wrong. You’re not holding him back. You’re letting him grow and become a better person. I’ve never seen Keith respond to someone the way he does with you.” A beat. “He told me that he danced with you just now in the town square, in front of all of the Aumians.”

Lance nods in confirmation.

Shiro shakes his head and lets out a short laugh. “The Keith that I know from the Garrison would never have done that. The Keith that saved me when I crash-landed back on Earth would never have done that. The Keith I talked to yesterday would never have done that.” He pauses. “You do something to him when you’re around him. You make him see the best in people, and you see the best in him. If you weren't there, he wouldn't have danced. He probably wouldn't have gone into the town at all. There’s no one else like that for him.”

Lance can’t form any words. His voice is failing him, and so are his thoughts. He gave up on trying to form a coherent one minutes ago.

“I can’t stop you from doing what you want. But I don’t think you want to keep this hidden from him. And I think if you tell him, you won’t regret it. Maybe you two are meant for different things. But who said that you can’t be together while pursuing them?” Shiro looks over at Lance with his warm, kind eyes, and Lance feels the hopelessness within him bubble away.

When Lance hugs Shiro, Shiro meets him with open arms. It’s the first time they’ve hugged. Lance doesn’t think he’ll ever forget it.  Lance’s face is smushed into Shiro’s chest and suddenly he’s a child again, hugging his older brother Marco after he fell out of the tree he had been climbing and skinned both of his knees. He feels the vibrations of Shiro's voice when he says, “The love of my life is light years away, but I don’t regret any of the decisions I’ve made, even if it means I won’t be seeing him for a while. Everything I'm doing is to keep him safe. And I promise you won’t regret it either. Fight for what you want Lance. I swear to you, you both deserve each other.”

Shiro is pulling away, clapping Lance’s shoulder, then stepping inside with a small smile. Lance turns back to the watch the sunset once more and breathe.

After a few doboshes, someone else takes Shiro’s place.

It’s Keith. Of course it's Keith. Keith with his jacket shed and the top buttons of his shirt undone and his sleeves rolled up, all the way to his elbows, so that his forearms are on display. Keith, with blue flowers that bloom beautifully on top of scarred skin. He pulls his sleeves down before Lance can inspect his arms too closely, and Lance suddenly feels foolish for hoping.

“Hey,” Lance says, voice soft. He’s always been soft when it comes to Keith, even if he doesn’t show it all of the time, even if he nags and teases and yells at Keith sometimes.

Keith doesn’t look out at the ocean, or the sky, or the sun. He looks at Lance. “What are you doing out here?”

Lance hums absently and turns to face the view once more. “Watching the suns set. It’s beautiful here,” he says.

Keith hums. “Yeah,” he says. “It is.”

Silence follows. 

“You left in a hurry after the dance. Are you… Are you alright?”

Lance shakes his head and tries not to focus too hard on the embarrassment that claws at the pit of his stomach. “I’m fine. You don’t have to worry.”

“Of course I’m gonna worry,” Keith says slowly. He leans onto the railing next to Lance, eyes still locked onto him. “I kept looking for you but you were gone. I thought I made you uncomfortable. I thought you hated me.” Oh.

“Keith,” Lance starts. He’s aggravated and ashamed and he doesn’t want Keith’s pity, especially not in regards to this. But he can’t bring himself to be mad at Keith. “I should be the one apologizing to you,” he says. “I just… I didn’t know that my flowers would react like that. I didn’t think you would even notice them. I shouldn’t have let myself be that open. I’m sorry. Besides, I could never hate you. Obviously.”

Keith looks into his eyes with his own, and they glow purple and yellow in the fading lilac evening. “Why are you acting like this?” he asks with poorly masked frustration, and this is the Keith Lance knows--growly and angry with furrowed eyebrows and pointy teeth. The Keith Lance just danced with almost feels like a mirage.

“What do you mean, ‘Why am I acting like this?’” Lance bursts out. “I just danced with the love of my life and it was fucking amazing, but my stupid soulmarks starting glowing and ruined everything. I didn’t want anyone to know yet, Keith, not formally. Not Allura or Hunk or the Aumians. Not even you. Especially not you. I think I have a right to be upset.”

Keith stares at him for what feels like vargas. Lance doesn’t know what to say, and he feels his throat closing up, so he just stares back.

Keith’s nose is crooked from all of the times it has been broken--no less than three times, he had told Lance once, and Lance had shaken his head and chided Keith for being so reckless. Keith’s eyebrows are thick and uneven, with a notch cut into his right one, and it looks so badass and Lance kinda wants to press his mouth there and let it linger. Keith has two moles just below his eye that disappear into the crinkles of his laugh lines when he smiles. His face is asymmetrical, but in the best way possible.

Lance keeps finding himself discovering new things about Keith in different lights. He knows how Keith looks in red and in black. Now he’s discovering Keith in purple, and it’s a whole different type of light, one that Lance has only ever seen once before in the Castle of Lions all those months ago, when Lance had taken his hand and offered words on teamwork and friendship and bonding while half-conscious and delirious with pain.

Lance wants to know who the blue flowers on Keith’s body bloom for.

“The love of your life?” Keith whispers eventually. His eyes are round with shock.

 _Yeah_ , Lance thinks detachedly. _You’re the love of my life. You’re it for me. Everything I see and do is painted in red because of you._

Suddenly, there is a soft buzzing in the air, and bugs that look like a cross between bumblebees and fireflies light up the evening haze with their golden glow. Lance looks around in surprise as they float aimlessly, illuminating the air with their small yellow lights, and the atmosphere is suddenly ten times more romantic. Lance feels like he’s literally living in some shitty rom-com with none of the comedy and all of the typical cheesy movie tropes, except the romance is stilted and awkward, and it’s painful for the audience to watch because neither of them know what the hell they're doing.

He looks back at Keith and suddenly he’s drowning, because Keith is closer than he was before and his eyes are hooded and his fingertips are brushing along Lance’s forearms, over the silky material of his shirt.

“Can I..?” Keith asks, voice low. Lance can’t do anything else but nod slowly.

Keith pushes up the sleeve of Lance’s shirt to his elbow, and stares at the red roses. They’re glowing again, and it is more faint than last time, but definitely just as noticeable. Lance isn’t just drowning, he’s suffocating, suffocating from the stupid fucking roses and the scent of lilacs on this flower-covered planet and the love that fills his body until it is flowing over the brim.

Lance starts. “Keith, I--”

“Wait.” Keith says, and then he is pulls his sleeves back up to his elbows, and--

Blue flowers bloom in large clusters all over Keith’s forearms, and they’re glowing. They’re glowing, Lance realizes. He thinks they’re hydrangeas. Those are the same ones that his Papa had grown for his Mama.

Lance looks at Keith’s face. He is all open and honest and vulnerable as his hand comes up to rest on Lance’s cheek.

“Lance, dancing with you was something that I never want to forget. And I want to do it over and over again if you’ll let me, in fancy ballrooms and under the moonlight and in the kitchen of our house at 3 am because neither of us can sleep. I want to grow more flowers for you until my body is covered in them to prove to you how much I care about you, because you just can’t seem to get it into your thick skull. I love you, you dumbass," Keith says.

Oh.

Lance hears the words play over again and again in his head: _dancing with you_ and _under the moonlight_ and _our house_ and _I care about you_ and _I love you. I love you. I love you._

Lance doesn't have the words to say how Keith is making him feel. He doesn't have the words to tell Keith that his laugh is the most beautiful sound Lance has ever heard, or that his hands are delightfully warm and soft when placed in Lance's, or that his eyes are prettier than the lilac-looking flowers in this beautiful Aumian festival that celebrates rebirth and growth. He doesn't if he can say how he feels.

So he kisses Keith instead. He places one hand on Keith's hip and the other at the nape of Keith's neck and leans forward and places his lips on Keith's own. Keith makes a small noise of surprise but surges into the kiss, pressing back with the same gentle pressure and placing his palms on the expanse of Lance's chest. Keith is warm and open and pliant and he smells like honey and flowers and all things sweet. He tastes even sweeter. 

After exchanging an innumerable amount of soft kisses under the starlight and the glow of lightning bugs, the suns have finally set, and the sky is dark. Lance pulls away and threads his fingers through Keith's hair. It's gotten pretty long, brushing the tops of his shoulder blades. Lance likes it like this.

"Me too," He says, finally. "Me too. I love you, and I care about you, and I also want to dance with you in the kitchen of our house at 3 am because neither of us can sleep."

Keith smiles. His eyes crinkles and his moles disappear once more. "Is that a proposal, McClain?"

Lance rolls his eyes but keeps his smile. "Only if you want it to be, Kogane."

Keith hides his own grin in the crook of Lance's neck.

"So your flowers really do grow for me, huh?" Lance asks. Keith nods.

"Of course," Keith mumbles. "Of course they grow for you."

And Lance can't help but take hold of Keith's arm and bring it up to his lips; he can't help but trace the hydrangeas and map out the marks with his mouth, from the soft skin of his inner forearm to the knuckles of his hand. Keith blushes furiously and shivers and stammers, but never pulls away.

Lance finally stops, and smiles at Keith, taking hold of his hand and bringing it to his heart. He looks into Keith's stardust eyes. "Mine grow for you, too."

 

❀.*｡･ﾟ

**Author's Note:**

> few things:  
> -i love the latino keith hc and i fuc heavily with rican keith because hello i myself am rican. i just think he's neat.  
> -if i wrote anything wrong about salsa/bolero tho please let me know.. all i had to help me write this was my own knowledge and the internet lmfao  
> -i always write from lance's pov because i feel like he would describe the stuff he sees and experiences beautifully while keith would just be like "i kissed lance today it was good" so. yeah.  
> -this is titled as "tiddy.docx" in my files just thought i'd let y'all know  
> if u leave a kudo/comment i will yodel thank u i love u !!!  
> come yell at me on tumblr [@etherja](https://etherja.tumblr.com/)  
> EDIT: [@jayessart](http://jayessart.tumblr.com/) has created the most beautiful fanart for this fic!! please go check it out [here](http://jayessart.tumblr.com/post/181824988312/they-grow-for-you-inspired-by-wish-that-i-could)  
> also i have a twitter now!! talk to me [@rosedvst](https://twitter.com/rosedvst)


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